A Very Human Triumph
by Ansketil
Summary: When Molly takes the son of Voldemort under her wing and raises him as her own, life gets very interesting. Looking exactly like LV, Marvolo soon finds out how sinister people can be, especially HP, DADA Master,who seems to be unable to see past his dad.
1. Prologue

**A Very Human Triumph**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter any more than I have the title deeds to the moon; I am actually getting poorer in writing this in that I am neglecting my studies.

**Author's Note: **When inspiration strikes… write it down.

**Prologue**

_Dear Nephew,_

_I cannot tell you how pleased I was to receive your letter. It is a rare thing these days for a young man such as yourself to write to an old dotard like me asking about our family history! Our peculiar physiology has been enough for certain members of our familia to prefer to ignore our heritage (how is your mother, by the way, still as thick as goblins with the Minister?) in an attempt to quash the rumours that continue to spread about us. _

_You told me in your letter that you had found a muggle family with our name – country squires, that sort of thing – but no record of any wizarding Riddles beyond my father. That is because, dearest nephew, my father did not want you or anyone else to know the facts beyond what he gave. He was ashamed of his heritage, a heritage that still lingers in the faces of some areas of the family. I am, of course, referring to myself. I realise that your mother doesn't want you to know anything of our past, but ignorance is only bliss to those without brains, so I will do my best to enlighten you. _

_My father, Tiberius Riddle, was born without any of the – how does your mother put it? – Physical defects that my grandfather had inherited from my great-grandfather. Only in a certain paleness of the skin did he resemble his forbears. He felt ashamed of his ancestry and attempted to destroy all evidence relating to our male line. He was so very proud when your mother was born – beautiful Aurelia. He was less pleased when I made my entrance into the world – ugly Charles – a pertinent reminder of the origins of the Riddle family._

_I regret to say it, but everything your mother's enemies hurl at our family is true. Except that I am a reclusive, half-witted monster. Just because I choose to live in an isolated cottage and have some interesting physical characteristics, does not mean I am either unintelligent or monstrous. I would like to make that clear. Everything I am preparing to you is the truth and none of your mother's lies will change that._

_To begin with, I must state that we are descended from Salazar Slytherin, through a certain Merope Gaunt. She had intercourse a muggle named Tom Riddle and had a child by him. Beyond that, nothing is certain. What is certain is that Tom abandoned her and their progeny ended up growing up in a London_ _orphanage. That orphan grew up to be known as Lord Voldemort. Ah yes, that made your breath hitch, didn't it? Voldemort conducted many experiments upon himself and at the time of his death he reassembled nothing so much as a snake, with livid red eyes, a flat, serpentine face and chalk white skin. _

_I have in my possession, the memoirs of my great-great-great-grandfather – Voldemort's son. Presumably they were dictated in his later years to a close friend or family member. I suspect that it may have been his wife, but I cannot say for certain. Regardless, they are authentic and are a record of a very human triumph. A copy of the manuscript should arrive in a few days – for I had to use the post office, my own aged owl, Archimedes, not being up to the task of delivering such a volume._

_Your loving uncle,_

_Charles Christopher Riddle_


	2. The Boy Who Lived

**A Very Human Triumph**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter any more than I have the title deeds to the moon; I am actually getting poorer in writing this in that I am neglecting my studies.

**Chapter One – The Boy Who Lived**

Mrs. Weasley strode purposefully up the stairs, gazing neither left nor right, attempting to avoid looking at the sinister interior of the house.

Technically speaking, she wasn't supposed to be allowed in. Into the home of the late Lord Voldemort, only Ministry authorized personnel were allowed. _But_, Molly thought, _being a war widow allows a woman certain perks_. She'd wanted to surprise Ginny with a home-made lunch. Since the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, all the aurors had been working overtime, attempting to eradicate that evil presence for good.

When she reached the top of the stairs, Molly paused to catch her breath, leaning one hand on a section of mahogany panelling for support. There was an odd scraping noise and a void opened up where the wall had been just a moment ago.

Before Molly had time to react, she was tumbling, crashing against chiselled stone steps, limbs splayed out in all directions in a reflex attempt to halt her descent. Finally, she landed heavily on a wooden floor.

Molly got to her feet, aching all over. She reached over to pick up her handbag off the floor. Luckily, her wand had been in there, otherwise it might have snapped. She took it out and performed a few healing charms. Her body still felt horribly stiff, but at least the cuts and bruises seemed to have healed.

Having established that she was alright, Molly took a look at the room she'd landed in. It was barely illuminated by a bewitched crystal set into the ceiling. The walls were of the same dark wood panelling which seemed to dominate the rest of the house. The room appeared empty, except for a large black box in the far corner.

Her foot knocked against something on the floor, making her jump. Molly bent down to find her fingers closing around a long, wooden snake. The snake had several joints that allowed the holder to curl it up or bend it into a zigzag shape.

It was then that Molly heard the hissing. Thinking it could be one of You-Know Who's awful pets, Molly held her wand out defensively, ready to jinx anything that came slithering towards her. She moved closer to the noise, which seemed to be coming from the box. Then Molly realised that what she was actually looking at: a cradle. She lent cautiously over the side.

There was a child inside it. Looking at it, Molly had no doubts about whose child it had to be. Its skin was dead white; its nose two small slits in a flat face and its large, red eyes were wide and blinking. It hissed at Molly pitifully and she noticed that it was slightly blue around the mouth and dangerously thin.

It would die, she knew, in a couple of hours, if she left it here. _And yet_, she thought, _does it really deserve to die?_

How could she justify leaving a child, no matter who its parents were, to die? Almost without conscious thought, Molly reached down and gently took the child into her arms. She half expected it to bite her, but all it did was snuggle deeper into the warmth of her chest.

The child was so cold that for a moment Molly thought it must be dead already. But she could see its breath, flowing in and out of those slitted nostrils. _Must be cold-blooded_, she realised, and hugged the child closer.

What would happen to this baby if Molly took it to the aurors upstairs? First they would put it under heaps of spells to make sure it really was just a baby and then, _if_ they let it live, they'd probably send it to the home for war-orphans. She sent money to them every month out of her pension, and many people went there and adopted children from both sides of the war. But Molly knew that no one would ever want this particular war-orphan.

An inscription on the cradle caught her eye. '_Marvolo,' _it read. So it was a boy. What was You-Know-Who's surname again? Riddle? Yes, that was it. Marvolo Riddle.

Marvolo was attempting to eat her breast, his toothless mouth searching for a teat, wetting her blouse. "I don't have any milk," she told him. She reached one hand down into her handbag and took out the flask of hot-chocolate she been intending to give Ginny, placing it on the floor. Then, with a wave of her wand, she transfigured it into a bottle of warm milk. She then pushed the bottle's teat into Marvolo's mouth. At first he spat the milk out, but after a few moments, he latched onto the bottle and refused to let go until there was no more milk but the dribbles that ran down his pale cheeks.

Molly stood there feeling out of her depth. What she'd just done, it had been a reflex, the instincts of an experienced mother. But what should she do now? This little child would not fare well in an orphanage – he would be teased, ostracised and tormented by the knowledge that no one would ever take him into their home. He would grow up lonely and lost.

_What would you do, Arthur?_ Molly asked silently, rocking Marvolo in her arms. Her husband had always said that the inner qualities mattered more than the appearance. She could almost see him defending Hagrid.

And suddenly little Marvolo seemed like a gift. Molly had been feeling purposeless now that all her children had left home and her husband was no longer there for her. It was quiet in the cottage she'd bought when the Burrow had been destroyed by Death Eaters. Her days seemed an endless procession of monotony, and she knew that she was verging on depression, even if she didn't want to admit it. Molly had found that she needed someone to care for.

Now she knew what she was meant to do. She would take Marvolo to live with her. She'd teach him to love and help him out-grow the legacy of his father.

Molly carefully emptied Ginny's lunch out of her handbag and placed Marvolo in, wrapping him up in his black blankets. She also took the wooden snake toy.

Head held high, Molly Weasley left the Dark Lord's home, without seeing her daughter, Voldemort's child asleep in her handbag.


	3. The Serpent in the Nest

**A Very Human Triumph**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter any more than I have the title deeds to the moon; I am actually getting poorer in writing this in that I am neglecting my studies.

**Chapter Two – A Serpent in the Nest**

Eleven year-old Marvolo Riddle lived alone with his Nana. An imaginative, curious child, Marvolo had never really minded being alone. He had never met anyone apart from his Nana. When he rubbed his long, white fingers together, he could feel the scars from when he had smashed his Nana's mirror, and remembered how he had stood there staring at the shards that revealed a face so different from the faces he'd seen in his Nana's large collection of photos and read about in books. His Nana had tried to reassure him by saying that everyone was different and had different shaped noses and eyes from everyone else.

But from that day on, Marvolo knew why he never saw anyone but his Nana. Mostly, he forgot about it, tried to block it from his mind. But some nights, lying in his bed, Marvolo touched his face, trailing over it with his fingers until he could feel the tears trickling down his cheeks.

He didn't know who his parents were. His Nana had explained that she would tell him when he was older. Of course Marvolo had ransacked the house for anything that might give him some clue, but he found nothing. Somehow, he got the impression that his Nana didn't like his parents very much, whoever they were. He thought they must be dead; otherwise he wouldn't be living with his Nana. Or perhaps they didn't want such an ugly child?

Marvolo sat outside in the garden. It was enclosed by ivy-covered stone walls and warded with magic against intruders. And, Marvolo thought, against people wanting to get out as well. He knew his Nana just wanted to protect him, but sometimes that protection was suffocating,

He was leaning against the trunk of one of his Nana's prized apple trees. Marvolo wore a pair of faded, grey jeans and a red jumper that his Nana had knitted for him, imbued with heating spells. Even in summer, he could feel very cold. Marvolo pushed back his wavy, white hair out of his face and pressed his face close to the ground to look at the ants that were moving up the roots of the tree. Then he put two long, white fingers on the bark, blocking their path, and waited to see what the ants would do.

"Marvolo!" his Nana yelled from the kitchen window. He sighed and removed the blockade, allowing the ants to continue their journey up the tree. As he stood up, something wet landed on his face and he looked up at the grey sky, sniffing the air and holding a hand out to catch the first droplets of warm, summer rain.

"_Marvolo!"_ his Nana called again, more insistently.

"Coming!" he called back as he made his way inside. She ruffled his hair as he sat down and put a large plate of omelette and toast in front of him, as well as a small bottle of deep, brown liquid. Marvolo eyed it distastefully.

"Don't give me that look," his Nana said sternly, pouring out a large spoonful, "you know I pay through the nose for your healthy scale formula. Now open your mouth."

Marvolo shut his eyes and opened his mouth. As soon as his Nana had tipped the liquid into his mouth, he took a big mouthful of omelette, attempting to make the horrible, fishy taste go away.

A knock sounded from the front door. "Go to your room, Marvolo," said his Nana, quickly vanishing her own omelette with a wave of her wand. "And lock your door."

He raced up the stairs to his room, obediently locking the door behind him as his Nana had ordered. She had always told him that if anyone saw him they would take him away from her, so Marvolo hid under his bed, trying to hear what was going on. This didn't happen very often, usually his Nana knew when people were coming and she gave him medicine the night before. His Nana didn't know that Marvolo had worked this out and although he'd tried to get out of taking the medicine or just pretended he'd taken it, she always ended up giving it to him. He always woke up after the visitors had left.

Marvolo heard the hum of voices, but he couldn't make out the words. Finally, after a long time, his Nana called him back downstairs.

"Can I finish my omelette now?" he asked, before he noticed the other woman. She didn't look at all like his Nana. She was older, and taller and much thinner, with her pepper and salt hair tied back into a tight bun.

"Marvolo," said his Nana, coming to stand beside the other woman, "This is Professor McGonagall. She's come about your school, isn't that exciting?" but his Nana's voice sounded forced and her voice shook.

"Does anyone else know about this, Molly?" the strange woman asked sternly, staring at him with wide, glaring eyes.

"No…" his Nana answered in a small voice.

"He's the spitting image, Molly, except for the hair. I'm astounded that you never informed anyone. But, be that as it may, he has to go."

_Go where? _Marvolo thought, backing away.

"So… he'll have to go, Minerva? Can we just…?"

"Certainly he must go," said McGonagall firmly, "his name is on the list." She motioned for Marvolo to sit down at the table. "I'm going to ask you some questions, Marvolo," she said. "And mind you tell the truth."

Marvolo cast a fearful glance at his Nana, but she nodded, so he gingerly sat down.

"What is your name?" McGonagall asked.

"Marvolo Riddle," he answered cautiously.

"Who was your father?" she leaned forward, looking him in the eyes.

"I… I don't know," Marvolo stuttered, "Nana said she'd tell me when I'm old enough."

"Hmm…" Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Have you ever heard the name L-Lord Voldemort?" Marvolo heard his Nana gasp.

"Yes," answered Marvolo firmly, "he was a very evil wizard who hurt a lot of people and got defeated by Harry Potter. He killed Nana's husband."

McGonagall looked across at his Nana and her expression softened somewhat. "I can understand why your Nana didn't want you to know this – but you have to know before you get to Hogwarts." She paused and looked at him sadly. "Lord Voldemort was your father."

Marvolo sat on his kitchen chair, gripping the sides tightly. He felt light-headed and blinked heavily, his breathing coming faster. _His father was You-Know-Who? _His scarlet eyes began to water. Then he remembered the words "spitting image."

"I look like him, don't I?" he said, looking down at the table.

"Of course not, dear…" said his Nana hurriedly, "you look like you." She moved around to hug him close.

Marvolo burst into tears.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of – do you hear!" His Nana continued, glaring a Professor McGonagall, "Nothing at all."

"Of course not," agreed McGonagall, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Well, here's your official letter, Mr. Riddle," she said, pushing an envelope across the table, "I'll see you in September." She turned to leave but then she stopped and added, "And I regret to inform both of you that appearance altering spells and charms are strictly forbidden at Hogwarts. No exceptions. Good Day."

When the woman had gone, Marvolo turned to his Nana. "Where am I going?" he asked fearfully.

His Nana sat down and beckoned. He scrambled onto her lap and buried his face in the curve of her neck. "I don't want to go to school!" he wailed, trying to blink the tears away. "It'll be alright, darling," she said, wiping away his tears, "you just behave the way I taught you and you'll be fine." She stroked his white hair comfortingly. "You'll see."

* * *

Marvolo was nervous and excited as he waited outside the Fireplace Room. His Nana had told him that she'd learnt to keep her Floo Network grate in a well warded room the hard way.

His Nana cast several more heating charms on his maroon cloak, flipping up its deep hood. Her hands were shaking. She hugged him tightly and touched his cheek, wrapping a scarf around what seemed like all of his face.

"Now remember," she told him. "No running off, keep your hood up and if anyone does anything… strange… you tell me right away. If you're good, I'll buy you something nice when we've finished, alright?" Marvolo nodded and she handed him the yellow gloves she'd knitted him for his long fingers and bundled him into the fireplace, throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the grate.

"Diagon Alley!"

There was a dreadful spinning sensation and bright light and just when Marvolo was certain that he was going to be sick, everything stopped suddenly. Hand in hand with his Nana, Marvolo found himself staring out at a dimly lit, smoky room, full of chatter and the clink of glasses.

"Molly!" a woman cried and there was a terrible crash and Marvolo watched as a table crashed to the floor. "Sorry!" the same woman cried, waving her wand to rectify the damage. A nice lady, with a pleasant looking face and magenta hair was smiling apologetically, clearly embarrassed. She walked towards them and Marvolo instinctively moved closer to his Nana.

"Minerva's told me about…" she flicked a curious glance at Marvolo, "your situation. I'm here to make sure you don't get… pestered."

"Oh, Tonks!" sighed his Nana, "how many know?"

"Everyone important," said Tonks airily, avoiding the question. She gazed down at Marvolo and held out a hand. "I'm Mrs. Lupin," she said in a friendly way, "though everyone calls me Tonks."

Tentatively, Marvolo took her hand. He could see she was shocked at the coldness of his fingers. He pulled away. "M-m-m-marvolo," he said quietly, his voice muffled by the scarf.

"Well, Marvolo, have you ever been to Diagon Alley before?"

"I've never been anywhere before." Marvolo answered in the same, quiet voice.

"Oh," Tonks didn't seem to know what to say.

They walked out into a small courtyard. Tonks tapped a pattern on the bare, brick wall and Marvolo gasped as a busy street was revealed before him. It was crowded with people and made him step back, shocked by the sheer noise of the place.

"Have you already got your money?" Tonks asked Nana, as they walked into the alley, Marvolo gripping his Nana's hand tightly.

"Yes," his Nana answered. "I went and got it earlier. All we're getting today are some Hogwarts robes and a wand. The rest I can get myself."

Marvolo nodded shyly. "I've already got my books," he told Tonks, "I've read them all already."

They turned into a clothing shop. For some reason, Tonks gave him an odd look then turned to his Nana. "You'll be getting another prefect in the family."

Nana smiled weakly. "Yes," she said, "Marvolo's very clever."

She turned to the woman behind the counter. Marvolo longed to go and explore the shop and run his hands over all the colourful materials, but he knew his Nana had told him to stay. Besides, he wanted the "something nice," Nana had promised if he was good.

"Hogwarts robes," said his Nana to the shop assistant.

The assistant peered at Marvolo intently. "I didn't know you'd had another child, Molly."

His Nana flushed, "Oh, no, this is Marvolo. He's… my ward."

"Well, Marvolo," said the shop assistant, coming round from behind the counter. "You're very tall for your age, aren't you?"

Marvolo nodded shyly.

Tonks interrupted. "Excuse me," she said, "can I have a word with you." The two women went behind a display and whispered for a few moments. Marvolo heard the shop assistant gasp.

They remerged.

"Well, young man," said the assistant shakily, if you'd like to follow me." Her smile was now gone and her face was taunt.

With a nudge from his Nana, Marvolo followed. "Take off your cloak," the assistant ordered in a no-nonsense voice, "and the scarf."

Marvolo slowly unwound the scarf, watching as the assistant's eyes grew wide and her jaw clenched. "Stand on the stool," she said, looking away from him," clearly uncomfortable.

"HARRY!" Tonks yelled from the other side of the shop, "and little Amelia too! I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Yes," the man called Harry answered, "It's her first year, isn't it Amelia?"

"Yep!" a girl's voice squealed.

"How lovely," Marvolo heard his Nana say. "I'm here with… with Marvolo."

There was silence in the shop. Then hurried footsteps and a man came round the corner. His steady, green eyes pinned Marvolo against the wall more effectively then any amount of the real ones the assistant had been sticking in could have. The man's hair was jet black and stuck up at the back and he wore glasses that seemed to enlarge his vivid emerald eyes even more. He had a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. The assistants stared from one to the other, her heavily lipsticked mouth open. Marvolo wanted to shrink away. He was looking at Harry Potter, the man who had defeated You-Know-Who… his father.

"Hello, Mr. Riddle." Harry said softly. "My name is Professor Potter. I'll be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

Marvolo didn't know what to say.

The girl had followed her father. She stared at Marvolo. She had her father's green eyes and bright, coppery hair done up in a ponytail. Professor Potter looked down at her. "This is my daughter, Amelia. It's her first year as well."

"Hello," said Marvolo softly, looking down at the floor.

Professor Potter rejoined the other adults and Amelia stood on another stool, beside Marvolo. "You look ugly." she said to him.

"I know," said Marvolo, not looking at her.

"I think you look evil!"

Marvolo glared at her. "I'm not!" he said hotly.

"Why do you look like a snake then?" said Amelia smartly.

Marvolo, never having thought about it quite like that, didn't know what to say. He turned away and yelped as the assistant accidentally stuck a pin in his arm. "That hurt!"

"Sorry," said the assistant, not looking it.

Marvolo stared at the floor and said nothing.

Amelia, who somehow got finished earlier, perhaps because she was short, hopped down off her stool. "See you at Hogwarts, weirdo," she said, popping a pink lolly into her mouth. She rejoined her father and Marvolo heard the shop bell tinkle as they left.

"W-what does Professor Potter teach?" he asked the assistant.

"You don't know?" She gave him a hard look. "He was the one to break the curse: he's the Defence against the Dark Arts Master. What did you think he'd teach?"

Marvolo shrugged.

"Anyway, you're done."

He slumped off the chair and went over to the shop counter where his Nana was waiting. She wrapped him up again in his scarf and cloak.

"You're lucky Marvolo," Nana said, "not long ago it would have been second hand robes for you," she sighed, "but then, you'll have enough problems to be getting on with." She handed over the money and took his hand, "Come on, one other shop."

The wand shop was right down the other end of the alley. It reminded Marvolo of the garden shed, old and full of cobwebs and dust that made him sneeze.

Nana said that she'd wait for him outside. A bit scared, Marvolo went in.

An old man came to serve him.

"Hmm…" he said, pursing his withered lips, "I wasn't expecting this – just goes to show, doesn't it?"

"Show what?" asked Marvolo shyly.

"Why, how you would have laughed, Albus!" the man seemed to be talking to himself.

"Umm… I'd like a wand, please."

"Of course you would – which is your wand arm?"

"Left," Marvolo answered, holding out his arm.

"Left, left, excellent, we don't get many lefts. Wand Sinister they call it – your father had it."

Marvolo said nothing.

"Now, now, no need to look glum. Your father was a great wizard – terrible – but great. Now let's search for your wand."

Marvolo soon got very bored waving wands that did nothing. He'd expected something more magical. And while Marvolo's arm began to ache, the stupid old man just got more pleased with himself.

"Perhaps it's the length… you do have great long digits, don't you? How about this one? Thirteen and a half inches, phoenix feather, much like your father's wand."

Still nothing, Marvolo waved it again, frustrated.

"No? Maybe something more exotic…" The old man brought out another little wand box, "Ivory and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, an interesting wand. It should give you a surprise or two."

As soon as Marvolo took the wand he knew it was the one. He gave it a swish – a peal of little bells sounded.

"Oh, how stylish, Mr. Riddle… That will be twelve galleons."

Marvolo counted out twelve gold coins out of the little black bag his Nana had given him. Then he ran out of the shop, wand in hand, to show his Nana.

"That's lovely, Marvolo. I've never seen a wand that wasn't wooden before. But they do say that the necromancers of Austria have iron wands…"

"Really?"

"Mm," Nana suddenly looked slightly queasy. "Anyway, I promised you something nice didn't I?"

The pet shop was crowded when they walked in, full of children gawking at the strange creatures. The Asian wizard at the counter was looking irritated. "Please do not touch the turtles! They're very rare!"

"Come on, let's go look at the owls," Nana said brightly.

But the menagerie was so full of children pointing at the owls they wanted that Marvolo began to feel sick. He escaped out the door, where a cloaked man was standing with a covered cage. The cage rattled in a scarily and whatever was inside was spitting and hissing frantically.

"_Let me out, let me out! You horrible man! I hate this stupid cage, it's dirty and small! Egg stealer! Slime! Filth!"_

Marvolo looked at the man in distress. "How can you look so calm when your animal is screaming nasty names at you for everyone to hear?"

The man in the cloak looked at Marvolo intently. "You have red eyes," he said slowly.

Marvolo didn't reply, merely looked back at the cage. "She says you're an egg stealer. Are you?"

Waving a hand dismissively, the cloaked man laughed. "No, I bought her for good money, but I won't vouch for her former owner. But I'll give her to you for free if you answer me a question."

"What?"

"Are they letting you into Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, this is a magical snake, I'm not entirely sure of the breed. Your – guardian – will know what to feed her, I'm sure. She's an aggressive little thing, not yet fully grown; A daughter of Nagini. Good day." And the man thrust the cage into Marvolo's hands and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

"Can I keep her, Nana? _Please!"_ Marvolo begged his Nana. They were back at home in the cottage.

"Oh… well, Marvolo, a snake isn't an accepted pet at Hogwarts…"

_Immediately after he had opened the cage, Marvolo had instantly liked the snake. She was black with big yellow eyes. "My name's Marvolo," he told her._

"_I am Yingarna, snakeling master," _

"_Pleased to meet you,"_

"_Cold-blooded is the serpent – you will travel a hard path little wizard. But I am a daughter of my mother and I will bear it with you."_

"_You will?"_

_The black snake blinked, and Marvolo felt it could have been a shrug. "What else? Malfoy was surprised to see you in Diagon Alley, I'm sure. He was going to sell me to be put in a potion."_

"_That's horrible!"_

"_True enough. But then, Malfoy is not a snake speaker – or a proper dark one either, really. But we have met before, in the place of hot-blooded screaming... Do not tell anyone this, or we will both suffer – I have seen how wizards are. Say you just found me in the alley…"_

"But she's really well behaved! She won't hurt anyone, _will you?" _

Yingarna shook her head. She had draped herself around Marvolo's neck, like a scarf, her diamond shaped head resting comfortably on his right shoulder.

"See?"

"Oh… _alright_, but only because I'll feel better knowing that you have someone to protect you."

* * *

Standing on platform nine and three-quarters, Nana gave Marvolo one last hug. He was wearing his black Hogwarts robes and cloak, the hood up and long black mittens on his hands, Yingarna safely hidden in his lunch satchel. "Now, remember Marvolo, always be polite to everyone and do what your teachers tell you." The whistle blew. She gave him a kiss on the check. "You're a good boy, Marvolo," she said as he hefted his luggage onto the train.

Finding himself in an empty carriage, Marvolo waved to his Nana until she was out of sight. Then he sat down and took out Yingarna.

"_It stinks of fish in there!"_ the snake spat.

"_Tuna sandwich, Nana says they're good for my scales."_

"_Mice are good for that, not fish."_

"_I've never eaten a mouse, especially not raw."_

"_Never eaten a – where have you been all your life? No mice? Mouse entrails are the best thing in the world."_

"_Really?"_

"_Do I look like a liar? Once we get to Hogwarts I'll find you a big juicy one and you can see for yourself." _

Marvolo wondered if he dared eat a mouse… were they better than tuna? Could they possibly be worse?

"Um, could we sit down?" asked a voice from the doorway. Marvolo looked up to see two identical blond girls looking at Yingarna curiously.

"I suppose," he said. They sat down opposite him.

"Is that _your_ snake?" asked the one on the right.

"Yes."

"Cool!" they chorused.

"What's his name?" asked the one on the left.

"_She's_ called Yingarna," said Marvolo quickly, before Yingarna could insult them for calling her a male.

"_They're the hatchlings of the Malfoy, Lucia and Cordelia."_ said Yingarna softly.

"_Are they nice?"_

"_How should I know?"_

"_I just thought…"_

"You're a _parselmouth!"_ one of the girls gasped.

"Is that what you call it?" Marvolo asked, "When you can talk to snakes?"

They ignored this. "Why are you wearing a hood – what year are you?"

"Umm…."

"Don't be silly Cordelia," the other one said, "he isn't wearing house robes; he's a first year too, aren't you?"

"Yes," said Marvolo in a small voice.

"Take your hood off," said the one Marvolo thought was Lucia.

Marvolo – who could see that he wasn't going to get any peace until he did as she said – sighed and tugged his hood off.

Both girls gasped, and then looked at each other. "He looks just like the painting of…"

" …The Dark Lord!"

"But he's got hair."

"That's no excuse!"

"We could…"

"…Couldn't we?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, but everyone will think we're evil too."

"We aren't?"

"No!"

"Why not, it'll be fun! Better than hanging out with Gyrtha Goyle and her stupid brother!"

"You're right – will you be our friend?"

"Umm…" Marvolo was speechless. "Alright, my name is Marvolo Riddle."

"I'm Lucia Malfoy and this is Cornelia," said the pushier of the two twins. "I'm sure we'll all be in Slytherin."

Marvolo found that he like the twins quite a lot. Lucia could be a bit bossy, but Cornelia was really friendly. They talked about all sots of things from Yingarna to their schoolbooks and Marvolo told them about how Yingarna wanted him to try eating mouse. "Eeewww!" both girls squealed.

"We're buying our lunch," said Cornelia, "We can get something for you too if you want?"

"Yes please," Marvolo nodded, reaching to put his hood back up.

"Leave it off!" said Lucia, "Don't be ashamed of what you are! Your father was a great man. You should be proud of your heritage like we are."

"_Lucia!" _Cornelia gasped.

"Shut up, Cornelia. It's true. I've looked through grandfather's study. Father doesn't talk about it, but our grandfather was given the Dementer's Kiss for mass murder and conspiracy to overthrow the Ministry."

Marvolo could only nod.

"We should support fellow evil spawn."

"I'm not evil spawn!" said Marvolo hotly.

Lucia gave him a _look._

* * *

**Leave a review, they're generally considered beneficial to getting more story. Of course – I'm notoriously slow and it might not even get any further. But maybe it will be continued if you persuade me.**


	4. The Hat & the Hatred

**A Very Human Triumph**

**Author's Note: **I believe I might just continue with this! Thanks to my two reviewers… Um, I just realised that there is some confusion as to whether it's Cornelia or Cordelia Malfoy – it's Cornelia. I have cut out the sorting hat song because I really can't be stuffed making one up. Sorry.

**Disclaimer: **Marvolo is mine! Kind of… not really… everything belongs to JKR. _Sighs… _

**Chapter 3 the Hat & the Hatred**

Ordering lunch proved interesting. Lucia, who appeared to have the Malfoy twins' money, accidentally spilt knuts and sickles all over the floor of the compartment. They all drove down to rescue the money.

"It's your fault, Cornie, _you_ knocked me!" Lucia snapped, on her knees, looking under the seat.

"I did not!"

"Yes you did!"

"Marvolo knows I didn't, don't you?"

Marvolo, also on the floor picking up coins, had been looking out the window at the time, but he thought that Lucia was being unfair, so he agreed with Cornelia.

"You're both liars!" Lucia yelled.

"Er… anything you'd like?" an old lady with asked from the doorway.

They all became sheepish and tried to straighten their clothing. Then the woman caught sight of Marvolo.

She fainted.

They all rushed over, drawing a few curious students from out of the corridor.

"It's him!" a Hufflepuff senior yelled, "He's cast a dark curse on her!"

Marvolo was outraged. "I didn't!" he screeched, "She fainted all by herself!"

A Ravenclaw prefect peered curiously at Marvolo through his glasses. "Can you prove it?" he asked slowly.

Overcome by the press of people crowding round, Marvolo found himself unable to speak, looking down at the fallen lunch lady. Lucia gave him a fierce look. "He didn't do anything. We saw. He just looked at her," she said in a loud voice.

This, clearly, was the wrong thing to say. "You mean he didn't even need a wand?" the Hufflepuff gasped, and the corridor filled up with whispers.

The Ravenclaw was a bit more level-headed. "Even if it's true, who'd believe you two? Malfoys aren't exactly non-partisan."

"How'd you know?" asked Cornelia, looking up from next to the prone woman.

"Your sister is wearing a cloak with the family crest on it. However, I'll mention that you defended him in my report."

"Your report?" Marvolo asked weakly, finding his voice.

"Of course," the prefect said officiously. He turned to the crowd. "Right… show's over, everyone! Shoo!"

Students retreated, whispering, to their compartments, "What about our food?" inquired a tall Gryffindor angrily.

"I'll do it…" said the prefect, calmly. He bent down and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He murmured something and the lady sat up, blinking.

"Oh, I had such a strange turn! Would you believe I thought I saw You-Know-Who on the train? Nonsense, isn't it?"

Pointedly waving Marvolo back into the compartment, the prefect instructed Cornelia to take the old lady to the front of the train and let her lie down for a while.

"_Right…"_ he sighed, regarding Marvolo and Lucia. "Was there anything you two wanted to buy?"

"Not hungry," mumbled Marvolo.

Lucia was more pragmatic. She ordered three pasties and several kinds of lolly.

They sat in their compartment and looked at each other. "Do you think they'll kick me out for making an old lady faint?" asked Marvolo, not touching the proffered lunch.

"I don't think so. They can't prove a thing, father says it's proof that counts; the most they could do would be to give you detentions – can't dock points this early."

"Oh," Marvolo said softly. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to go."

Cornelia returned. "It's okay. She's fine. Well… as fine as she was before, anyway. Can I have a bean, Lucia? Yuck, asparagus. Want one, Marvolo?"

"As long as it's not mouse," Marvolo said, nodding. He put it in her mouth and made a face. "_Tuna_… trust _my_ luck."

"Cheer up," said Cornelia, sitting next to him. "They'll get used to you eventually. This is just… shock."

Lucia snorted. "This isn't shock, its fear; look at him! Would you want _that_ at school with your kids?" Marvolo tried not to cry

. "Shut _up_, Lucia!" Cornelia hissed, her face going pink, "Don't make it worse!"

They spent the rest of the ride without much discussion.

"That's Hogsmeade," Lucia said, as the train began to slow, "I thought it would be bigger… more like the village near our manor."

"You live in a manor?" Marvolo asked, patting Yingarna, who had fallen asleep in his satchel. "_Try not to be noticed_," he advised her, "_just stay in the bag until you get into Hogwarts."_

"_Very well, fellow cold-blood. I smells your concern. But not too long, or Yingarna will have to go and hunt."_

Marvolo closed the bag and put his hood up. "Let's go," Cornelia said, looking out the window, "everyone else is already leaving."

Crossing the lake didn't prove as hard as Marvolo thought it might be. People gave the three of them a wide birth and they got a boat to themselves, even if it meant others has to squish into other boats. "I think being your friend has its perks," said Lucia, as the little fleet began to move, but her voice didn't quite ring true.

Marvolo felt the stares of the other first-years and he was sure the rumour about what happened to the lady on the train had gotten around. He gritted his teeth and looked up at the castle. _I want it to be over, _he thought, _and we haven't even got there! _While others stared in wonder up at the lofty castle - its windows lit up against the darkening sky - Marvolo felt only anxiety.

"Look over th' side and ye' might see th' giant squid!" boomed the large man in charge of the boats. "It's too dark," Cornelia complained. "You're right, I can't see it," Lucia agreed. Marvolo thought he might have seen a tentacle, but he kept it to himself.

At last they reached the other side, where neat fields stretched away into dark tress. They followed the man up to the castle, and Marvolo realized, heart sinking, that he was at least a head taller than everyone else.

The giant door opened and a small woman with flyaway hair stood there in plain green robes. "I'm Professor Sprout, the deputy headmistress. Just so you know, your belongings will all be sent to whatever dormitory, depending on which house you're sorted into."

Marvolo had a brief longing from Yingarna. He could have done with the support of the little snake; his knees were beginning to feel weak.

"Well, you're all a bit late, so follow me, please, and keep in some sort of line." The Professor turned and walked down the hall. Somehow Marvolo ended up in front, he felt the blood coursing in his ears and was glad he had his hood up.

They emerged into a festival of light and sound. Hundreds of faces swan around Marvolo and the air was full of excitement and chatter. It seemed as though there was no roof to the room, but it opened to the night sky.

"So, if you would all line up," Professor Sprout called "I will call your name and you sit on this stool her to be sorted." Marvolo noticed McGonagall sitting in the middle of the teachers' table.

"Alworthy, Everett!"

A sandy-haired boy walked tentatively over to the stool and stat down, whereupon the Professor placed a very old and dirty hat on his clean hair.

"GRYFFINDOR!" someone shouted out and Marvolo guessed it must have been the hat.

Marvolo watched student after student get sorted and his stomach grew tighter and tighter as the alphabet inevitably wound its way down to 'R.' Cornelia Malfoy was sorted into Hufflepuff, to Lucia's horror. "I can't believe it! Trust Cornie to go to the wussy house! Father will be so embarrassed!" Lucia herself, did, however, follow the family tradition in going to Slytherin and she got a particularly large cheer too.

Finally Marvolo knew he'd be next.

"Riddle, Marvolo!" Doom beckoned. He made his way gingerly over to the stool and sat down. Sprout placed the hat over his head and it fell past his eyes, turning the rest of the hall to a muffled black.

"_Oh ho… How unexpected! Another Riddle… Not such a difficult choice – SLYTHERIN!"_

Nobody clapped. As the hat was raised, Marvolo realised that the hall was dead silent, everyone was staring at him and he realised suddenly that the hat had knocked his hood down. He looked at the ground as he walked over to the Slytherin table to sit next to Lucia. Several people edged away.

"Looks like it's just you and me, huh?" Lucia whispered.

Marvolo said nothing.

Rackham, Abigail…!" called Professor Sprout in a thin voice. Immediately, people began to talk again, louder than ever.

When everyone had been sorted, Headmistress McGonagall rose from her seat. Marvolo didn't even listen to what she said. He looked at his empty plate sadly. School was just as awful as he thought it was going to be, if not worse. When the food magically appeared he got a bit of a shock and drew back.

"Come on, Marvolo," Lucia said, "don't let them get to you. Have some food."

Marvolo looked over at the teachers' table. On the right he saw Professor Potter, who had scared him so badly in the robes shop. His daughter had been sorted into Gryffindor. Marvolo realised that the Professor was staring at him; suddenly, he looked away with a hand on his forehead. _That's odd, _Marvolo thought.

"So," said a senior significantly, "are you going to kill us all in our beds or aren't you?"

Marvolo scowled at him. "I just want to leave this stupid school."

"Was that a no or a yes?" asked a pretty girl on the opposite side of the table.

"A no." and he refused to say anything else.

After dinner they made their way down to the dungeons of the castle and were told that the password to the Slytherin common room was "Serpents rule," which caused people to glance significantly at Marvolo.

He rushed up to his dormitory and pulled the curtains around his green and silver four-poster bed. The tears began to fall the soak the pillow almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. That night he cried himself to sleep.

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